Saturday, 28 February 2015

WordPress Daily Feline Prompt: Feline Me Time

What’s your ideal Saturday morning? Are you doing those things this morning? Why not?


“Shhh Mrs. Human, Fluffy is having “me time”.”

“It seems to me he is in permanent “me time”.”

“Bastet said that every feline being is entitled to 90% me time daily.”

“And the other 10%?”

“Obvious Mrs. Human. We prepare ourselves for “me time”.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Now that was a wonderful “me time”, I am now awake and ready to go.”

“Go where Fluffy?”.

“To search a nice comfortable place for my next “me time” of course.”

“You see Mrs. Human, we follow the words of Bastet to the end. Baste tells us “me time” and we do “me time”.

“I see Tabby, but where does the washing time and the eating time fit in?”

“That is the preparation time for the “me time”. No self respecting feline enters its “me time” phase without being clean for it, or with hunger, book of Bastet chapter 653 verse 99.”

“Tabby how that must be a big book that Bastet wrote.”

“Oh yes, she brings something new every day.”

“How does she decide what to write.”

“That’s easy. She watches the humans and when they decide something anti feline, she writes a new chapter with some new verses to solve the problem.”

“In other words, she makes it up on the way.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it like that. She applies instinct.”

“Which is?”

“That’s that thing that humans have never been able to explain, but don’t worry Mrs. Human, we will let you know if you do something wrong.”

“I am sure you will Tabby.”

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WordPress Daily Prompt: Me Time

What’s your ideal Saturday morning? Are you doing those things this morning? Why not?

Safran Rice

“Me time” is every day. Since I belong to the leagues of unemployed golden oldies that have nothing better to do than count their ailments and eat and sleep, “me time” is a precious commodity. Unfortunately things do not always work out as you want. Dreams of doing what you want to do instead of doing what you have to do have no clear borders. They melt into each other and Saturday mornings are no different. Why Saturday morning? Is it a common thought that you have nothing to do on Saturday morning?

Saturday mornings are reserved for the things you wanted to do during the week so that you could arise and say “I did it all” and just go back to bed and dream on. Unfortunately things are never as you envisage, even Saturday mornings are to be planned carefully for the remainders of the working week. It took some time, but I realised that somewhere twenty minutes were missing in my “me time” Saturday timetable until I found the solution. I was partaking in my usual routine after leaving my golden oldie sleep haven known as bed. Eating breakfast and  examining computer developments during the night to begin on the normal daily vacuum cleaning gymnastics, but it was Saturday and “me time” which had somewhere disappeared. 

It was also orchid time. There they are about 15 orchids all with the little green tongues hanging out and saying “water, water”. What can you do, definitely not ignore them. There are too many mysterious unsolved murders of housewives choking on an orchid flower or having their feet replaced by leaves and so I give my orchids water and lose about 20 minutes. This is 20 minutes of precious Saturday morning “me time” and so I had a brainwave. My orchids now have their thirst quenched on Friday afternoon. They do not mind but I now have twenty minutes more on Saturday morning and 20 minutes less on Friday afternoon. What to do with this extra twenty minutes? I clean the windows as well as the vacuum cleaner jogging expedition. Oh the joys of “me time”.

So there we are, all chores completed by 11 o’clock and now to cook. Another “me time” occupation we ladies all love. There is no escaping, we cook and eat to live and not vice versa. In the meanwhile Mr. Swiss has departed on his “me time” journey to the local supermarket to buy the things we forgot on Friday. He combines this with a visit to his music room in town. Yes, he is very considerate and leaves me to my own “me time”. What to cook? This is no problem, the plan was made on Friday when I had my Friday morning “me time”. Today it would be saffron rice accompanied by a cooked coq au vin, meaning a chicken cooked with wine. I discovered that “me time” made a mistake on Friday and we had no white wine, but as it is just a matter of colour, I used red wine and no-one noticed: wine seems to be wine.

“Me time” was completed and the family all sat down together to lunch. Oh the joys of together time. Even our blind feline Fluffy joined us as his sharp nose discovered there was the whiff of chicken in the air, although he decided that a place on the floor was just as comfortable for his extra meal. After lunch it was “me time” again where I caught up with the Sugar Crush developments on my iPad. Eventually another round of “me time” came into existence when I retired to my bed for a golden oldie sleep. I am now sitting at my computer typing all about my “me time”. Unfortunately it seems that my “me time” is shared for the benefit of others and the only real “me time” is now when I write my daily prompt. 

These WordPress people seem to think that Saturday morning is “me, me, me” where we have nothing better to do than dream away. A woman’s job is never done, it is planned, a question of logistic and nowhere on my timetable are the words “me time” on Saturday morning. And to answer the question why I am not doing “me time” this Saturday morning, it is because I do not do “me time” on Saturday morning, I have other things to do. I assume that Silicon Valley is closed on Saturday mornings, or Saturday morning does not exist. All the Wordys of this world are having sleep modus and their “me time”. 

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Friday, 27 February 2015

WordPress Daily Feline Prompt: Last Feline Words

You have the chance to write one last post on your feline blog before you stop blogging forever.

cat walk 1

“But we only just started to blog regularly Mrs. Human.”

“Tabby it is only figuratively speaking, just as if.”

“Aha, figuratively does not exist in meow, but we will continue, won’t we Fluffy?”

“Of course Tabby, no problem. Shame that Nera is no longer here to blog with us.”

“Who said I am not here?”

“Nera, you are paying us a visit, how nice, but don’t do it so dramatically. Mrs. Human doesn’t believe in Bastet and she has now fainted.”

“That is not my problem. Now and again I like to make an excursion to see how things are going. What’s this about “stop blogging forever”?. Tabby write today’s blog “A voice from the grave” no, perhaps strike “grave” and write the Kingdom of Bastet.”

“Ok, Nera, do you want to paw it on the pad or shall I?”

“I will dictate and you will paw, My paws are not so good at this earthly stuff.”

“So write, In the words of Nera, the chief feline I will always be with you.”

“Is that all?”

“It’s enough.”

“Aha, Nera where are you going. You are fading again.”

“I am supernatural, and Mrs. Human is waking up. We don’t want to make her faint again when she sees me. Besides, I have a job to do for Bastet. We got a new shipment of mice today, and I have to sort them out in sizes and colours. Bye everyone and don’t forget, continue the good work and blog.”

“Tabby, Fluffy, did I see Nera? No, it couldn't be, she has left us for a better place.”

“Is that figuratively speaking Mrs. Human?”

“Sort of Fluffy. But I am sure I saw her.”

“Forget it Mrs. Human, just a figment of your imagination.”

“But there is a small ball of black fur on the carpet, and neither you or Fluffy have black fur.”

“Mrs. Human, Mrs. Human…..”

“Forget it Fluffy, she has fainted again. Shovel that black fur under the carpet. It is getting near tuna time and we don’t want her to faint again otherwise there will be no tuna.”

“Will do Tabby, no problem. Those humans have no understanding for the feline world.”

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WordPress Daily Prompt: Last Words

You have the chance to write one last post on your blog before you stop blogging forever. Write it.


Dearly beloved fellow bloggers, we are gathered here today to mourn the blogging loss of our beloved blogger, Angloswiss. She battled her way through all the obstacles placed in her path, but she remained steadfast to the end. 

We will remember her as being resolute, obstinate and ignorant to the end, ignoring the words of warning placed on her way by the brotherhood of WP, but 
she did not listen and above all not read the words written on the grid. It was a hard fight, she lost some words on the way, but carry on regardless was her motto. 

We remember the day when the grid appeared. She was lost, desperate, no-one wanted to understand her feelings on the loss of the pingbacks. She was warned, pingbacks were a dying breed, no longer needed and should neither be seen or heard. She wept many tears, she begged on her knees, she pleaded, but to no avail. The pingbacks were gone, decomposing in a lost place somewhere in Silicon Valley.. Now and again a few might raise their head in defiance, but the day came when Angloswiss wrote “there will no longer be pingbacks on my blog”, and so it was. 

The grid was creeping over her computer, demolishing all chances of a normal blogging experience, but she never gave up. Oh, the despair when she was confronted with the days when it was not possible to spread the blogging word, due to those dreaded words “0 responses”, but she continued, undaunted and defied the Wordys of this blogging world. They were closing in on her, slipped into the grid by an unknown demon.

Then came the day when Wordy appeared on her doorstep regularly eating her famous chocolate cake and dropping the crumbs into the keyboard. Was this the secret weapon engaged by the dark forces of the blogging world? Were they out to finish her brave efforts?

She continued ignoring the attempts of blog assassination. Her strength was waning despite her efforts to fight back and protect her blogging world. And then the final insult, the grid expanded including prompts of the ancient days. She was bewildered, no longer found the way out and was trapped in a maze of blogs implanted on the grid. A confrontation of words written some years ago, with photos and waning likes. Her blogging circulation was cut off, not by a knife, but by decaying odour of dead blogs. They crept into her system, into her bloodstream, poisoning every click of the mouse on the keyboard. 

Yes, there are things in this blogging universe that are better forgotten. Her last wish was “do not cry for me bloggers, it is a far far better thing I have blogged than I ever blogged”. She will return, she will slide into the computer on the darkest night. You will be blogging, but she will be there to infiltrate your blogging thoughts. You will stare at your empty screen and suddenly words will appear as if written by a ghostly blogging hand. There will be no escape and she will send messages from the blogging grave of the grid of death. The script form “Exquisite Corpse” which was always her favourite will creep across the screen dripping red.

To conclude this service of blogging rememberence, drinks are supplied. There is a selection of red wine for those that are partial to alcohol. As an alternative the local blood bank has donated some glasses of their samples, for those amongst us that would prefer this alternative. I am sure she would be happy to see the floral tributes. It was her last blogging wish to have belladonna decorating her blogging grave. The icons can be found at

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Thursday, 26 February 2015

WordPress Daily Feline Prompt: Fight or Flight - a feline conversation

Write about your strongest memory of heart-pounding, belly-twisting nervousness: what caused the adrenaline? Was it justified? How did you respond?

My friend's Alsatian

“That is a dog Fluffy.”

“I cannot see the dog on the photo because I am blind, whatever that is,  but I know what a dog is Tabby. They have a sort of, well, doggy smell, not as  sweet flavoured as us felines and they bark.”

“So what do you do when you know there is a dog near.”

“I run Tabby as fast as my four paws will carry me.”

“That is because you are a beginner Fluffy. We are felines and we do not succumb to nervousness when there is a dog nearby.”

“So what do we do Tabby.”

“We look it in the eyes with an intense “I could kill you” look.”

“Does that work Tabby, does it go away?”

“If the dog is smaller than you are it might yap a bit and go, if it is a specimen like in the photo, an Alsatian, it will stay and return your stare.”

“So what do we do then.”

“We remain where we are of course and try it with a hiss.”

“And that will frighten the dog.”

“It could be that the dog barks.”

“Oh yes, they can be very loud. But then they go.”

“Errr, they should Fluffy, but there are canines that have no respect for us felines that were worshipped as gods in the old country.”

“And then”

“Yes Fluffy, it is then we apply the laws of Bastet, chapter 2, verse 3.”

“Which says?”

“Run for your life and dive in the next cat flap or up a tree. I would add that trees are only used if you know you can descend after the canine has gone.”

“What if the canine doesn’t go?”

“Fluffy, don’t ask silly questions.”

WordPress Daily Prompt: Fight or Flight

Write about your strongest memory of heart-pounding, belly-twisting nervousness: what caused the adrenaline? Was it justified? How did you respond?


“It’s the shadows doctor, they haunt me day for day.”

“Is that why you are here? I think it is your first time. How did you find me?”

“I looked in the telephone book and put a pin in the list of psychiatrist names and you are the lucky winner Dr. Vladimir Grabstein and so here I am.”

“Ok, just relax and lay on the couch, close your eyes and tell me all about it.”

“Can I do it with my eyes open? Not that I don’t trust you, but you never know these days. They are lurking in the shadows to get me.”

“Take your time Mrs. ….. errr Morticia Schwarz? Sounds like you have East European ancestors, just like me.”

“Yes but it was many years ago.”

“On the form you filled out for my records I see you have been married three times. As your age only amounts to 35 years, it seems that your marriages did not last very long.”

“I had some bad luck doctor. My first husband Herbert choked to death. He ate something that did not agree with him.”

“What was it.?

“I don’t remember, but the jury found me not guilty of poisoning as they had no firm evidence.”

“And your second husband?”

“Gerald had an accident. He was cleaning the swimming pool and fell in.”

“He hit his head on the way?”

“No doctor not at all, he couldn’t swim.”

“Then I do not understand why you had a swimming pool.”

“That was my idea doctor. Swimming is one of my hobbies, keeps you fit. The police suspected he was pushed, but again there was no proof.”

“And husband No. 3?”

“Oh, Morris had a car accident. He drove into a tree because the brakes failed. The car is still in police custody for further examination as they think someone cut through the brakes. Another reason that I have so many worries. He was quite rich and now I have to tie up the estate. His mother never liked me, she was sure I only married him for his money and is accusing me of killing him. No-one understands me, and now I am being followed by the shadows.”

“Tell me about the shadows, what colour are they and where do they appear?”

“The shadows are black, sometimes grey and often in fifty shades. Of course if I am in a black room the shadows are white. I tell you doc, they change all the time, reaching out with their murky fingers of darkness ready to grip me. Look, there is one there, be careful.”


“On the floor, don’t move, if you move it follows you. They have come to get you as well.”

“But it’s my shadow Mrs. Schwarz, just a harmless reflection of my body.”

“Stay away Doctor, do not touch me.”

“I will draw the curtains and look there are no more shadows.”

“Yes doctor, the curtains frighten them, scare them away.”

“I think I will hypnotise you, it would be better and will disperse your psychotic fright of shadows.”

“Are you insinuating that I am psychotic?”

“Well, it is not so normal to be frightened of shadows, so if I hypnotise you I might find out why. Just watch my finger as it sways from side to side. Now count to ten and then you will sleep. When I click my fingers you will awake again.”

“One, two, three …….”

“Ok Mrs. Schwartz, when did you see your first shadow?”

“It was when I was a child, but it was a friendly shadow, so I decided to keep it in my box.”

“You collect shadows.”

“Yes, but only the nice shadows. Now I see only angry shadows out to get me. I see them everywhere, doctor.”

“Do you see the shadows of your departed husbands.”

“I did but not any more. After they died they left me forever. I was free and now there is a new shadow standing next to me. I must kill it.”

There was a scream as Mrs. Schwartz took out the collapsible meat knife from the inside of her handbag and stabbed Dr. Grabstein, but he was prepared. He bit Mrs. Schwartz in the jugular vein and they were reunited in death. Now Vladimir always goes on his full moon excursions accompanied by Morticia. They are the perfect couple and their nervous days no longer exist. They are frightened of nothing, except the daylight perhaps. They now live in the land of shadows. Yes, there is a cure for everything.